The One Who Got Away
by bluemeanie11
Summary: Once upon a time, Voldemort was a young boy named Tom Riddle. And once upon a time, Tom Riddle had a crush on an older girl...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Much as I wish things were different, I am still a poor college student who owns none of this except the plot contained herein.  
  
Please do review this once you've read it, I am very interested in what everyone thinks. :)  
  
  
  
  
"Sir, excuse me, sir!"   
  
A tall, skinny boy with shaggy black hair tried simultaneously to run and pull a large, beat up trunk behind him up a staircase leading to Platform 9 at King's Cross Station in London. The latches on the trunk creaked as it thumped up each step, coming ever closer to bursting open.  
  
"Excuse me!" the boy called as he finally hauled his trunk up to the floor of Platform 9. A station security guard was standing not five feet away, flirting openly with a young woman in a nurse's uniform. He seemed not to have heard the boy's voice.  
  
"Sir!"  
  
The boy finally got the attention of the guard who was now right in front of him. The guard glanced down at him and sneered at the young boy's messy appearance. His black hair fell to uneven lengths, most stopping just around his ears. He was wearing worn out khaki pants with a hole just below the left knee and a button-up plaid flannel shirt that was a size too small.  
  
"Can I help you, boy?" the guard grunted.  
  
The young boy reached into his pocket, pulled out a slip of paper, squinted down at the writing on it, and then turned back to the guard. "I'm looking for Platform 9 and 3/4, sir. Could you tell me where I might find it?"  
  
"9 and 3/4? Are you crazy, boy?"  
  
The nurse laughed and the guard, shaking his head, took her hand and turned to walk away. The boy sighed and reached once more for the handle of his trunk.  
  
He walked slowly down the length of the platform, glancing up from time to time as if to check that Platform 9 and 3/4 hadn't materialized since last he looked. It never did and finally he stopped and sat down on his trunk directly in front of one of the barrier walls between Platforms 9 and 10.  
  
"You're a bit in the way there, kid!"  
  
The young boy looked up, shaking his bangs out of his eyes to see a tall red haired girl towering menacingly over him. She had in front of her a cart weighted down by a large black trunk. A basket sat atop the trunk, with the faint meows of a kitten escaping from an opening on the top.  
  
"Sorry," he mumbled, jumping up and hauling his trunk over to the side.   
  
The girl nodded curtly at him and pushed her trunk forward. In a moment, she had disappeared into the wall.  
  
The young boy stepped backwards in shock and fell over his trunk. He heard a girl's soft laugh and glanced up to see a pretty girl with dark brown hair standing above him. She appeared to be about the same age as the red head who had disappeared moments before.  
  
"Here, let me help you," the girl offered her hand.   
  
Once he was back on his feet, the boy dusted off his bottom and smiled sheepishly. "Thank you."  
  
"Oh, think nothing of it," the girl smiled. "What's your name?"  
  
"Tom. Tom Riddle."  
  
The girl frowned slightly. "I don't recognize your last name. I just assumed, you know, that you were going to..."  
  
"Hogwarts?"  
  
"Yes. You are, then?"   
  
Tom nodded quickly and grabbed hold of the handle of his trunk once more.  
  
"You must be a Muggle born."  
  
Tom frowned at this and stood up proudly, straightening his shirt. "I am not! I'm a, oh, what do you call it... My mum was a witch, but my father a Muggle..."  
  
"A half-blood."  
  
"Yes, that. Certainly not a Muggle born."  
  
The girl laughed. "All right, then. Are you a first year?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And having trouble getting onto the platform, I take it?" Tom nodded sheepishly. "Don't feel bad about it, many first years need help, nothing to be ashamed of."  
  
"Did you need help?"  
  
"Well, my dad took me. He and my mum both went to Hogwarts themselves. A very long time ago, I suppose," she paused. "Isn't your mother here to help you?"  
  
"She's died."  
  
"Oh, I'm very sorry, I didn't mean..."  
  
Tom shrugged noncommittally. He grasped his trunk handle even tighter. "Well, could you help me out, then?"  
  
The girl laughed again. "Oh, of course, I had almost forgotten." She checked the clock on the station wall. "And we really ought to be going, train leaves in fifteen minutes."  
  
Tom hauled his trunk closer to the girl as she pulled her cart bearing her trunk in front of her.   
  
"You know what," she began, "we could put your trunk on here, with mine, just to get it onto the platform. That's something you ought to remember, you know, for next year. They have these carts you can use, it's much easier."  
  
With her help, Tom hauled his trunk onto the cart on top of hers. "Okay, now what?"  
  
"Oh, that's the easy part. Just run straight at that wall there, don't stop as you're about to hit it, though. Because you won't hit it. You'll go straight through."  
  
Tom looked incredulously at her, but the idea sounded cool enough to him. "Can I go first?"  
  
"Sure, and I'll bring the trunks along behind."  
  
Tom took a deep breath and looked toward the wall. It did look fairly solid, but he had seen that red head disappear when she should have hit it, so he was willing to give it a try. Mustering up his courage, he strode purposefully towards the wall.  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut just before he expected the impact, but it never came.   
  
"Oh, so you've decided to come through the barrier, have you?"  
  
Tom opened his eyes and looked up to see the red head from before standing in front of him. He gasped in surprise and then glanced around him. People bustled around the station and a bright red train sat off to his left, pumping smoke through its steam engine.  
  
"It worked."  
  
"Well, of course it did, silly, what did you expect?" the girl grinned down at him. "Now, where is your trunk?"  
  
Tom opened his mouth to speak but he didn't get the chance.   
  
"I've got it," came another voice from behind him. He and the red head turned to see the brunette girl who had helped him standing by the barrier with the heavily loaded cart in front of her.  
  
"Good, Minnie, you're here. I was wondering what was taking you so long. Come on, we've got to get on the train!"  
  
"I was helping Tom here, Chelsea," she responded. "My duty as a prefect, you know."  
  
Chelsea snorted, "God, you're going to be unbearable about that now, aren't you?"  
  
Tom looked back and forth between the two girls as they talked.   
  
"It's an honor and a duty to be a prefect, Chelsea. And my name is Minerva, not Minnie. It'll do you good to remember that!" Chelsea rolled her eyes and Minerva turned back to Tom. "You'd better go on and find somewhere to sit on the train. Don't worry, we'll get your trunk on for you."  
  
Chelsea grabbed hold of Minerva's arm and started to pull her and the cart towards the train, leaving Tom alone.   
  
"If I don't see you before then, good luck with your sorting, kid," Chelsea called over her shoulder. "Hope to see you in Gryffindor."  
  
"Gryffindor?" Tom muttered. "I'd rather die than go into Gryffindor."   
  
The steam engine whistled once and Tom glanced at the clock. It was eight minutes till 11 AM. With one last glance at the barrier he still couldn't believe he had walked through, Tom jogged off to the train to find a seat.  
  
To be continued... 


	2. Chapter 2

Tom Riddle hissed the week's new password and stormed into the Slytherin Common Room. A group of boys who sat huddled together on a few sofas at the far end of the room looked up as he came in.  
  
"Well, if it isn't the Mudblood," a fifth year called in his direction.   
  
Tom ducked his head as the group of boys all began to snicker at him. He could hear laughter from students sitting in other areas of the room, too. A couple of boys, fellow first years and Tom's roommates, jumped up and walked with him as he made his way towards their dorm room.  
  
As they left, he could hear a voice back in the Common Room saying, "Dippet must've finally decided to start kicking those filth out..."  
  
"Ignore them," muttered one of Tom's friends, a short boy with sandy blonde hair, named Bartholomew.  
  
"How is he supposed to ignore them, Bart?" asked the other boy, Timothy. Tom had yet to speak as he threw his book bag angrily on his bed.  
  
Tom climbed onto his bed and pulled the curtains around him.   
  
"Tom?" Bart's voice filtered through the barrier.  
  
"Leave me alone, will you?"  
  
Timothy glanced at Bart and then strode over to the bed. He reached out boldly and pulled the curtains aside again, only to find himself staring right at Tom's wand.  
  
"I said leave me alone."  
  
"What did Dippet want, Tom?" Timothy ignored his friend's words as he sat on the edge of the bed. Bart warily stepped closer.  
  
Tom glared at both of his friends but dropped his wand onto the bed in front of him. He kicked off his shoes with a sigh and set them on the floor. "What makes you think he wanted anything?"  
  
"He did call you into his office..."  
  
"I went to see him."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Several things, why does it matter to you?"  
  
"I thought we were your friends!"  
  
Tom looked out at the two other boys for a moment and then moved to pick up his book bag. Timothy, who had been the one arguing, stared incredulously at the other boy.  
  
"Well, are you going to say anything, or just get right on with your homework, then?"  
  
Tom turned and glared at him. "I'm not doing my homework. I'm getting a piece of parchment, if that's alright."  
  
"What parchment?" Bart spoke up.  
  
"'The Four Founders: Their Hogwarts Lives'." Tom read from the parchment. "It's a book I've been wanting to find, but it's not here in the library."  
  
Timothy took the piece of parchment from Tom's hand and looked down at it. "Why do you want this book?"  
  
"So I can read about Salazar Slytherin, of course."  
  
"Why d'ya want to do that?"  
  
Tom rolled his eyes, stuffed the page of parchment back into his book bag, and set the bag on his trunk by the side of his bed. "I'm hoping I can find out more about the Chamber of Secrets."  
  
"The what?" Bart asked.  
  
"Honestly, haven't either of you ever read 'Hogwarts, A History'?"  
  
Timothy glanced at Bart. Both boys shook their heads no. Tom sighed.  
  
"The Chamber of Secrets is a special chamber in the school. Slytherin created it, hidden somewhere. Supposedly a Basilisk lives inside it."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"Honestly..." Tom glared out at the boys. "You know what, go do something, I have homework to do." Bart backed up a step but Timothy remained seated on the edge of the bed. "Well, go, will you?" When they still didn't leave, he reached for his wand and pointed it again at Timothy.  
  
Finally, both of the boys disappeared out the door, Timothy slamming it shut behind him. Tom listened for a moment as their feet sounded down the staircase.  
  
Once he was sure they were gone, he pulled his curtains shut again and reached under his pillow.  
  
Tom pulled a blank piece of parchment from his pillow, along with a quill, a bottle of ink, and small paperback book.  
  
He listened for a second, making sure that the dorm room was still quiet and then picked his wand back up. Tom muttered a quick spell and then glanced down at the parchment as it began to turn a faintly pink color.  
  
"Perfect," he whispered, a gleam in his eye.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
In mid February, a week later, students from all of the houses crowded into the Great Hall for breakfast. Everyone was chattering happily; the entirety of the student body was far more awake than was normal for the early hour at which breakfast was served.  
  
Tom filed into the hall with Timothy and Bart at his sides and slid into a seat as far from the older Slytherin students as he could get. Timothy and Bart chattered animatedly as they piled food onto their plates, but Tom kept his eyes trained on a group of fifth year students at the Gryffindor table.  
  
The entire Great Hall was decorated magnificently for Valentine's Day. Pink, purple, red, and white hearts and streamers fluttered above their heads while a similar color scheme of confetti crunched under their feet as they walked.  
  
Finally, as Tom managed to force a forkful of pancakes into his mouth, the post owls arrived.  
  
"Maybe you got a Valentine, Tommy," Timothy teased, but failed to distract the boy's attention from fifth year Gryffindor Minerva McGonnagall as a school owl landed in front of her plate.  
  
"Who's sending you something?" Chelsea leaned past her boyfriend as Minerva took the pink-tinted parchment from the owl.  
  
"I haven't a clue."  
  
"Open it already!" Chelsea's boyfriend commanded.  
  
"All right, all right, hold on," she pulled the string off the parchment and unrolled it. Almost immediately, her cheeks turned red.  
  
"Ooh, Minnie's blushing. What is it?" a boy to her left said excitedly.  
  
Minerva folded the parchment and made to tuck it into her robe pocket, but Chelsea stole it away from her.  
  
"Don't think you're getting away with that, young lady. We want to know what it says," Chelsea unfolded it again and ran her eyes over the writing. She grinned almost immediately. "Oh, this is too good. Listen you guys, 'I'm not so good at writing things down, but when I saw this verse, it made me think of you: Was this the face that launched a thousand ships? / And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? / Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. / Her lips suck forth my soul. See where it flies. / Come Helen, come, give me my soul again. / Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips.'"  
  
"Oh how sweet!"  
  
"Minnie's got herself an admirer!" Chelsea exclaimed happily. "I wonder who it is?"  
  
"Someone who can write!" called a boy from down the table.  
  
"Oh don't be silly," Chelsea chided. "Didn't you hear what it said, he didn't write it, he just copied it for her."  
  
"It's a Muggle thing, I think," Chelsea's boyfriend commented. "I'm sure I've heard it before, and you know how my dad loves Muggle literature."  
  
Minerva was still blushing as her friends chattered on around her.  
  
Bart glanced over at his friend and then turned around to follow his gaze over to the Gryffindor table. "Tom, you didn't!"  
  
"What, what didn't he do?" Timothy asked.  
  
Bart leaned forward to talk privately with Timothy, as his exclamation had drawn the attention of a few nearby students. "He did it, he sent Minerva a Valentine."  
  
"Tommy!"   
  
Finally Tom turned to look at his friends. "What?"  
  
"You sent her that?"  
  
Tom blushed bright red. "So what if I did?"  
  
"Way to go Tom, a fifth year!" Timothy grinned at his friend. "You're so lucky, you'll be the most popular guy in school soon."  
  
"What's so lucky?" Tom grumbled. "She'll never like me. She likes that damn Muggle born sixth year, Wilson Norman." He turned back to watch as Minerva stuck the piece of parchment in her pocket and tried to ignore her friends teasing.  
  
To be continued... 


End file.
